Our days on earth are few and filled with battles fierce; Temptation, illness, and the Wicked One cause us to fear! The sky is filled with thunder And the light of day so brief! Oh, is there any way the child of God can find relief?

Within the mind the war doth never seem to cease! Our tho'ts contrary to God's word can steal away all peace! And sin doth build a stronghold, conqu'ring more and more each day — Oh, is there any pow'r to tear that tower down today?

"For thy sake we are killed, as sheep to slaughter led!" And so the weary soldier may despair that hope is dead! But be persuaded that thru Christ we're more than conquerors! For naught can separate us from the fortress of His love!

In all these wars, despair tells you that none shall aid — That you alone upon this bed of thorns have ever laid — But know the truth: these thorns were pressed upon your Captain's brow! He faced all your temptations — He is Master o'er them now!

The child of grace can claim sweet victory divine; Yet still it seems that sin controls this wicked heart of mine! But Christ hath promised one day He'll return without our sin! And take us to our long-sought-home Eternity with Him!

To the cross! To the cross! Weary soldier return; When the battle raging in and 'round you burns! To the cross turn your eyes! By your Captain's mighty pow'r: Sin is destroyed, and death has died And He keeps you in this hour!

To the cross! To the cross! in and 'round you burns! To the cross to the cross! Sin